Everywhere A Man Can Be (Wroxton Recordings)
There’s such proximity in Everywhere A Man Can Be, the latest from Saskatchewan troubadour Zachary Lucky. Even with it’s fully lush country-folk production, the sound of the record never strays far from Lucky’s breathy baritone, recalling Gordon Lightfoot in his tender phrasing, so as to illustrate the weary nature of a songwriter who’s run the miles, where the Prairie highway breeze is, at times, the only harmony a man can find. Lucky’s walking the walk here, providing a soundtrack to that most universal process, of growing from the recklessness of youth to a man in full, as on Sell All You Have, where the task of keeping up with responsibility comes to bear alongside the knowledge that failure is possible even if you’ve done everything you could. The title cut illustrates those long miles run across a country whose geography can be far less forgiving than the well-earned reputation of its populace. If there’s a drawback to being on the road as much as Zachary Lucky is, beside the obvious homesick and lonesome feelings it brings to the fore, it’s that your muse becomes as much the highway as anything. While Lucky is careful to avoid cliché, and tells his highway stories as well as any troubadour, it’s worth noting that there is more to life than the road.